Beat the Band (Swim the Fly #2)(19)

“So.” I plant my feet and surreptitiously slide my desk a few inches away. “We’re here. We might as well get something done.”

“That’s what I was trying to do,” Helen says.

“Okay, fine, let’s whip this puppy — I mean, project — out.” Note to self: avoid all references to hot dogs, canines, and condiments when around Helen. “How long could it take, right? There’s rubbers, the diaphragm, and the pill. Big deal.”

Helen stares at me. “Coop, there are way more contraceptive methods than that. I’ve been counting them and so far I’ve got at least twenty different kinds.”

“Jesus. Are you twisting me? Do we have to do them all?” My gut clenches thinking about having to stand in front of the whole class with Helen and talk about all this stuff. I can hear the taunts now; “Wrap up that corn dog, Coop, or she might have puppies!”, “Give her the old cocktail weiner!”, “STDs? You’re more likely to get food poisoning!”

“I’m sure Mrs. Turris is going to want us to say something about each of them. Besides, we have two class periods to fill.”

I flip through my Health text and find the list of contraceptive methods. “Alphabetical order. How convenient.” I start to read them out loud. “Abstinence? What’s that?”

“It means not having sex.”

I laugh. “Like anyone is going to use that method.”

“A lot of people do.”

“Yeah, but not by choice.” I scan down the list. “Birth control implant. Yikes. Don’t like the sound of that. It’s probably some kind of microchip they insert in your brain that sends out electric shocks every time you think about doing it.”

“Somehow, I doubt it.”

“Don’t be so sure. There’s some pretty sick stuff out there. I heard that Ernie Plingus’s dad had this operation. They filleted his sack right open. Yanked his manstones out. Like what they do to animals.” It makes my tool bag shrivel up just thinking about it.

Helen raises a skeptical eyebrow.

“It’s true.”

“Let’s just stick to what it says in the book, okay?”

“I’m just saying. We could have some fun with this if we wanted to. Introduce some real-life examples and totally gross people out. Maybe even make Mrs. Turris hurl a crustless pizza on her desk. It’d serve her right. What do you think?”

“I think that we should stick to what’s in the book.”

I throw my hands up in surrender. “Whatever you say, Sister Helen.”

Helen sighs and returns her focus to the textbook. “There’s the birth control patch.”

“Birth control patch? Isn’t that what pirates use? Arrrr, I be horny lass, but I dasn’t want t’get ye preggers.”

Helen slams her textbook closed. “Coop! Enough! Knock it off.”

I look around, feel the heat of people staring. “Jeez keep it down, would ya?”

“You’re acting like an idiot.”

“I’m just trying to make this a little less painful. But if you want to be all uptight about it, fine. We’ll just do the most boring project in the history of the universe.”

“Cooper. Helen. May I see you up here, please?” Mrs. Turris makes a come hither gesture with her finger. Her mouth a little annoyed dash on her face.

Helen scowls at me. I glare right back at her.

There are more chuckles and comments from the choir as we head up to the front of the room and stand at Mrs. Turris’ desk. “Bad dog. Bad dog.”

I flip the whole class off behind my back.

“Now, this is the last time I’m going to tell you, so listen closely. This project is as much about the relationship between the two of you as it is about the health topics you’re researching.”

“Um, we’re not in a relationship, Mrs. Turris,” I say.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Cooper. You are in a very close relationship. You’re partners. And as partners, you have to be able to depend on each other. Trust each other.”

Helen blows sarcastically through her lips.

“Excuse me?” Mrs. Turris says.

Helen crosses her arms. “How am I supposed to trust someone who doesn’t even want to work with me?”

“Me not want to work with you?” I laugh. “That’s funny. Because it was your idea to ditch me and work on separate projects.”

“Yeah, right. You keep telling yourself that.”

“I don’t have to tell myself that because you’re the one who told me. Outside Golf Town.”

“Uh-huh. And why were we at Golf Town again?”

“Enough,” Mrs. Turris says. Her jolly-round-Mrs.-Claus face is not jolly anymore. “I’m giving you one more chance to figure this out. But if you can’t make it work on your own, trust me, I’ll make it work for you. Do we understand each other?”

“Yes,” Helen says.

I’m clenching my jaw so tight it’s giving me a migraine.

Mrs. Turris turns to me. “Cooper?”

“Mm-hmm,” I mutter.

“Good. Now, remember, you have two outlines due in two weeks. So, why don’t you schedule a time when you can both get together this weekend.”